Page 62 of Wishing for Christmas
Wait a minute, that was it! That was the answer to her security question.
She pulled out her phone and typed in the wordmemories.
Suddenly, she was in. There, in front of her, sat an endless digital montage of the past year. There were photos from Lily’swedding, videos of Clara and her grandmother planting their spring garden, links from several of the events she’d held at the Darlington. It was all there. An entire year she possessed absolutely no memory of. Sprinkled throughout the pictures were messages from friends. Happy birthdays around the time she turned another year older and, more recently, sincere messages of support. Some were from friends she hadn’t spoken to in ages. They were all encouraging and uplifting, though underlined with a hint of sympathy.
Thinking of you during this difficult time
Wishing you comfort and strength
Sending you hugs
Did all these people really care that she’d been going through a stressful long-distance relationship? Perhaps they had heard that Brent had been injured. It was clear she’d been the only one left in the dark about it all.
Clara gritted her teeth, kicking herself for all the mistakes she had made. She wished she had known then what she knew now. If only she could go back in time and do everything differently.
She thought about what Brent had said in the letter:I would do it all over again. Was that true? Would he really be willing to do a yearlong deployment all over again, to be with her?
She stood up from the rocking chair and wiped the tears from her eyes. She clutched the letter to her chest. Maybe that was it. They would do it all over again! Except this time, they would do it together. He wouldn’t endure another long deployment alone. No, this time she would be right by his side through it all.
Clara realized she needed to set things right, once and for all. If that enchanted ornament could make her skip a year—well,then it could probably work in reverse, right? She was going to fix this, and she knew exactly what she needed to do.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CLARA
Clara’s bones shivered with nerves as she reached her grandmother’s house just as the clear blue sky was beginning to give way to the night. She wished desperately that her grandmother was there instead of on the other side of an ocean. She needed to tell her about the wish she had made. She needed to tell her about the engagement. She needed to unload all the stress and embarrassment of the past few weeks. She needed so much from her: her advice, her comfort, and her help. She could do that later, though. Right now, she needed to get her hands on that magical ornament.
As Clara pulled into the driveway, she immediately noticed the uncharacteristic darkness. Not a single candle in a window, not a decoration on the house.It made sense that Grams wouldn’t decorate if she wasn’t spending the holidays there and didn’t have her annual party to think about. Still, something didn’t feel right about the scene in front of her. It was Christmas Eve, after all.
Clara pulled out her house key and slid it into the lock. No dogs barked.
“Hi, Clara,” came a voice from behind her.
She turned around and recognized Mrs. Roberts, her grandmother’s neighbor. She wore a long black coat and held her yellow labrador on a leash.
“Oh, hi, Mrs. Roberts. Merry Christmas. Do you know when my grandmother will be back?”
The older lady seemed not to hear her question. “I’m taking Max out for a quick walk, and then I’d be happy to come over and help with anything you need to do around the house.”
“Oh, I’m just here to grab something.”
Mrs. Roberts nodded. “Okay, then.” She pulled back on Max’s leash, who was ready to go. “Like I told your folks, I’m here to help with anything. I know they hadn’t finished taking care of all her affairs yet. Your grandmother’s voicemail message is still the same as she left it over the summer.” She tsked. “So sad.”
“Excuse me?”
“They’ve been so busy taking care of things around here lately. I’m glad they were able to take a little break to travel for the holidays.”
Clara swallowed the lump that was forming in her throat. “My grandmother? Grams. She’s in Paris with them.” Her eyes were wide with terror, waiting for her to answer. “Right?”
Mrs. Roberts looked back at her, a sympathetic tilt of the head. “Oh, Clara, I’m so sorry. I know Christmas must be especially hard for you. Your grandmother was a special lady.”
Was?Clara became sickened with shock as she tried to make sense of what was going on. “What do you mean?” she asked, her voice a shaky whisper.
Mrs. Roberts shook her head, clearly puzzled by Clara’s confusion. “You poor dear. I know it’s been six months already, but I’m sure it’s still hard to accept.”
Clara’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You mean, she—” She couldn’t continue, the words too awful to say out loud.
Those messages on her social media account.Thinking of you during this difficult time, wishing you comfort and strength, sending you hugs.
