Christmas in Tinsel Tree Village Read online

  Madge looked Neve in the eyes and continued, “We’re your family. We’ll always be your family. It was nearly impossible to recover from my grandson’s death, and when you left you made us mourn the loss of two people. Wouldn’t your parents have wanted Jackson in their lives if something had happened to you? You know the only thing the Ford family ever wanted was for you to be happy again. You deserve to be happy again. You’ve had too much loss at too early an age, but you have a long, wonderful life ahead of you. You need to relish that, not waste it.”

  “I don’t know how to go on any other way,” Neve said. “When I see you, I see him. When I’m in Michigan, I see him. At Christmas, I see him.”

  “That’s hard, I know, but it’s also a wonderful thing, my dear. That means you loved, deeply, and were truly loved. Do you know how I go on? One day at a time, sweetheart. One little step at a time.” Madge stopped and gestured to Neve’s window design. “That step is sometimes as tiny as those little trees I gave you, but at least it’s a step in the right direction. Toward healing. Toward light. Toward new memories. And that’s all we can do. That’s all any of us can do. The old adage is wrong. Time doesn’t heal all wounds—some remain forever. But that pain just means your life has been filled with wonderful, memorable people.”

  “I’m sorry to interrupt,” Trent said, approaching. “Is everything okay?”

  Neve nodded. “This is—” she hesitated “—my grandma.”

  “Well, it’s great to meet you, ma’am. Want to come in for some cider?” Trent gestured to the coffee shop behind them.

  “It’s nice to meet you, young man,” Madge said.

  “Young is a generous adjective,” Trent said with a laugh.

  “When you’re my age, everyone is young,” Madge said. “We’ll join you in a minute.”

  Trent began to walk inside but stopped to turn back. Neve nodded at him to go ahead.

  “And you should love again,” Madge said to Neve. “You know, there are different kinds of love, all unique, all beautiful. It may never be the same, but it can be just as sweet.”

  Madge grabbed Neve’s hands as they stood in front of the window.

  “Don’t live your whole life behind glass,” she said. “Don’t make your heart as small as your imaginary worlds. You are a bright soul, Neve, just like your name. When you diminish that light, the world grows darker as well.”

  Madge hugged Neve and kissed her on the head.

  “Diatribe over. I’m glad I found you. And we’d love to see you in Frankenmuth sometime, if and when you’re ever ready. Our home is yours. I love you, my sweet angel.”

  Madge began to walk away.

  “Grandma Madge?”

  She turned.

  “Please stay for some cider.”

  Madge smiled.

  “I’ve missed you so much,” Neve cried.

  The two stood in the snow.

  “You know, Jackson once had a terrier that loved the snow. Blond and cute as a button.”

  Neve shook her head and laughed. “Are you saying I look like a dog?”

  “No, not at all.”

  “I’m just teasing,” Neve said. “The Fords have always had a way with words.”

  Six

  “You got a package!”

  “You’re to blame for that.”

  Trent stopped at the door of the Saugatuck cottage, kicked the snow of his boots and laughed.

  “I think it was a mutual thing, by the way,” Trent said. “How are you feeling?”

  “Good,” Neve said. “I’m actually more nervous about having our entire families gather here for Christmas than I am telling them about the baby.”

  “Well, I bought some good wine to make it all go more smoothly,” Trent said.

  “Good wine?” Neve asked. “My family likes it in a box. This should be fun. And I have to endure the whole thing sober.”

  Trent laughed again. “I’ll drink for both of us.”

  “So what did I get?”

  Trent pulled a large cardboard box into the living room and toward the newly cut Christmas tree. “Somebody taped this shut as if it were going to be dropped from an airplane.”

  “Must be precious cargo inside,” Neve said, rubbing her stomach.

  Trent retrieved a pair of scissors and opened it. “There’s a note on top with your name on it. Here.”

  My dear Neve,

  I know I could have brought these to you in person, but I wanted you to have them before everyone arrived for the holidays, and your new home and life descended into total and utter chaos.

  Can I tell you again how proud of you I am? Trent is a wonderful man, and I believe you certainly had an army of guardian angels pushing you toward him. I’m glad you followed their lead.

  I found these hidden away in the attic when I was planning my annual fall yard sale—the BEST in Michigan. I’d forgotten all about them. They were the ones I gave Patty to decorate Jackson’s nursery with when he was a baby. I wanted him to be surrounded by magic.

  I know you probably have more of these bottlebrush trees than you’ll ever need—I mean, strangers want to give me their vintage trees to give to you so you will work your magic—but I thought inspiration might kick in once you saw these. There’s no one else in the world who should have them but you.

  Merry Christmas, my shiny, bright girl!

  See you soon!

  Love,

  Grandma Madge

  P.S. I’m sure Trent’s family is way classier than ours, but there better be a box of wine waiting when I arrive. You know how much the Fords love to dribble a few glasses over the holidays! XO!

  Neve opened the box, and an entire village of bottlebrush trees awaited: Blue, green, gold, silver, white, pink, some glittery, others dotted with little glass-ball ornaments or crushed-glass flocking. There was also something else, too—something bubble-wrapped and surrounded by sheets of tissue paper. Neve cut it free and gasped: a vintage bottle-brush tree baby planter. A figurine of a little pink-and-blue lamb pulling a cart filled with a pink-and-blue bottlebrush tree—as if the lamb had just cut a tree from the farm and was bringing it home for the new baby to see.

  Neve ran her finger over the lamb’s face and nodded.

  Now I know why she sent them early, she thought.

  “Will you help me with these?” Neve asked Trent.

  He followed her up the stairs with the box and into the baby’s nursery. The room was stark and white. A crib sat in one corner, along with a rocking chair and a changing table.

  “I’ve been waiting to decide how to decorate our baby’s room,” Neve said. “Especially since we’re waiting until the big day to see if it’s a boy or girl.”

  “I was wondering why you hadn’t jumped all over this yet,” Trent said.

  “But now I know.” She turned in a circle and placed the little lamb on the table. “I want to build a little magical world for our child, where he or she can be anything they dream.” Neve looked at Trent. “I just want them to know that being happy is the most important thing.”

  Neve continued, “I’m going to make these walls look three-dimensional, painting scenes on them and then adhering these trees on top as if they were real. One wall will feature our cottage here tucked between the lake and the woods. Another will be Lincoln Park in Chicago. And that wall will be Frankenmuth at the holidays. Our baby will have the best of both worlds, just like we do...” She paused. “Our baby will know love and the meaning of tradition.”

  Trent walked over and put his arms around his wife.

  “So what are we going to name our baby if it’s a little girl?” Trent asked. “We need to make a decision. You know every member of the family will have an opinion. And I don’t know if I really want a baby girl named Madge.”

  Neve laughed. “I’m torn between Faith and Hope,
”

  “That’s a great place to be,” Trent said. “I love both. And what if it’s a boy?”

  Neve walked to the box and pulled out a shimmering blue-green tree that resembled a miniature Fraser fir. Neve held it to her body and closed her eyes for a second.

  “How would you feel about Jack?” she finally asked.

  “I think that’s perfect,” he said.

  Neve nodded and looked around the nursery. Just outside the windows, snow began to fall over the lake. It moved slowly, like a curtain, until it reached the pines in front of the cottage.

  Trent walked over and took her hand, and the entire world glistened beyond Neve’s window.

  * * *

  Also by Viola Shipman

  THE CLOVER GIRLS

  THE HEIRLOOM GARDEN

  THE SUMMER COTTAGE

  And don’t miss

  THE SECRET OF SNOW,

  coming from Graydon House October 2021!

  For a complete list of books by Viola Shipman, visit his website, www.violashipman.com

  ISBN-13: 9780369718730

  Christmas in Tinsel Tree Village

  Copyright © 2021 by Viola Shipman

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

  For questions and comments about the quality of this book, please contact us at [email protected].

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