Chapter One
On the first day of December, Celeste Lagorio finished the last of the Thanksgiving leftovers, had her winter tires installed, and officially gave up on Christmas.
After working herself to exhaustion to create twenty-five years’ worth of perfect Yuletides for her children, Celeste was ready for a break. Her youngest was away at college and not returning for the holidays. The older two were married, living in different states, and planning to spend Christmas with their in-laws.
She would get her shopping done early, then give herself the rest of the month off. Two decades of single motherhood had certainly earned her that much.
The only thing left to decide was what she would do instead.
“A Caribbean cruise,” her neighbor Mike Durham suggested when she mentioned her plans to him over the hedge that night. “It would be warm.”
“I don’t want to travel over Christmas. The airports are always chaotic.” Celeste rubbed her mittened hands together to keep them warm.
“Then what about a big, extravagant Christmas present to yourself? Something you’ve always wanted but could never justify?”
There was some appeal in that, even if it wasn’t realistic. “And how would I justify it now if I couldn’t before?”
“You raised three children all by yourself, three children who did not grow up to be deadbeats, criminals, or politicians.”
She’d always liked Mike’s sense of humor. He’d moved in next door just as her oldest was leaving home. He’d been a burst of much-needed sunshine during a very stressful and overwhelming time in her life.
“I won’t argue that I don't completely deserve a ridiculously expensive gift from myself,” Celeste said. “But I’m paying for my daughter to attend a not inexpensive university. Fancy presents will have to wait a couple more years.”
“So no trips and no big presents. You’ve got to do something for your special Christmas.”
She rubbed at her arms. “How did ‘I give up on this holiday’ turn into ‘this is my special Christmas’?”
He motioned toward his house. “Come in and have some coffee before you freeze.”
“I won’t say no.” She stepped around the hedge and followed him up his front walk.
“Maybe your fancy Christmas present could be a really long extension cord for your electric blanket.” Mike held his front door open for her.
She stepped inside, sighing as the warm air hit her face. She pulled off her mittens and knit cap, then laid them on the entryway table. Mike tucked his cap under his arm, reaching up to smooth out his salt-and-pepper hair. She didn’t need to waitfor him to show her to the kitchen; she’d spent enough time at his house to have a stool at the island designated as her own. She slipped onto it while he started a pot of coffee.
“What did you do the first Christmas you didn’t have any children at home?” she asked.
Mike leaned against the counter. “I broke my arm, remember? The back stairs were icy and I slipped.”
“I’d forgotten that.” He’d only lived there for about a year when that had happened. “Breaking my arm is not exactly what I had in mind for my first-time-alone Christmas. Neither is something flashy and glamorous. The whole point is not to kill myself making the usual preparations. To just enjoy the holidays.”
Mike crossed to her side of the kitchen and leaned his forearms on the countertop, facing her.
“So which do you want more?” he asked. “A low-key or the Christmas of your dreams? Or maybe the Christmas of your dreamsislow-key.”
“I guess I haven’t really thought this through. What I did at Christmastime was always about the kids and what would make them happy.”
“What about before that? What did you want for Christmas before they were born?”
“Tickets to a Destiny’s Child concert.”
He laughed out loud, his dark eyes dancing with mirth, and she couldn’t help but join in. His laugh was like that. So many times in the years since she’d met him, he’d managed to help her smile through struggles and laugh at even the most difficult moments. She’d never been more grateful for a neighbor, for afriend,in her life.
“Well, you're not going to see Destiny’s Child in concert now,” he said. “But we might be able to find a concert video. Would that count?”
“What is this, a holiday bucket list?”
“Why not?” He moved back to the coffee maker and pulled out the pot. “You’ve spent more than half your life raising your kids. I think fulfilling a few of those wishes you set aside in order to focus on them would be a good way to celebrate your first all-by-yourself Christmas.”
