1225 Christmas Tree Lane - Debbie Macomber [52]
“Sounds like a great idea to me,” Christie said. “By the way, the house looks gorgeous.” She gestured at the candles arranged on the fireplace mantel and at the Christmas tree, its lights reflected in the picture window overlooking Puget Sound.
Falling in love had changed Christie, just as it’d changed Teri. The hard edges of her personality had softened. She’d proven to herself she could get whatever she wanted as long as she worked hard and persevered. Christie had recently graduated from Olympic Community College, and she planned to start her own business, photographing the contents of houses for insurance purposes. Teri was proud of her little sister.
“I heard from Johnny this afternoon,” she told Christie. Johnny was their younger brother. He was in school, attending the University of Washington. “He’ll come over for dinner tomorrow. With his new girlfriend.” Johnny never lacked for girlfriends, but he hadn’t met anyone who was going to change his life. Not yet.
Teri had been more of a mother to him than their own. Another memory floated into Teri’s mind. Soon after she’d married Bobby, Teri had made a huge dinner and invited her family to the house to meet her husband.
Sadly, her mother had arrived half-drunk, and from the moment Ruth stepped through the door, she did nothing but find fault with Teri.
Bobby wasn’t about to let his mother-in-law insult his wife and had handled the situation in a firm, yet subtle way. He’d wordlessly picked up Ruth’s purse and set it by the front door, indicating it was time for her to leave. Ruth had immediately taken offense and, dragging her fourth—or was it fifth?—husband, she’d stomped out.
“James, what do they mean by a flat-head screwdriver?” Bobby and James sat on the family room floor with the pieces of one scooter scattered about the room. Bobby held out the instruction sheet, frowning at the diagrams. Then he turned it upside down before turning it right side up again.
“I didn’t know there was more than one kind of screwdriver,” James confessed.
“You learn something new every day, right?”
“Right,” James agreed.
“I’ll get a flat-head screwdriver for you,” Teri said, sliding off the sofa.
Bobby gazed up at her as if she were the most brilliant woman who’d ever lived. “You have one?”
“That and a Phillips and a square tip…” She went to the kitchen drawer and returned with the required screwdriver.
“Do you need anything else?” she asked, handing it to him.
“Uh…” He showed her the instruction sheet. “Can you tell me what I’m supposed to do with that?” He pointed to the drawing of a part.
“Teri,” Christie said, getting up from the sofa. “It looks like these two are going to need a bit of assistance.”
“Looks that way,” she concurred.
“We can do this,” Bobby insisted.
“Yeah,” James echoed, but without much conviction.
“Do you want them to help us?” Bobby asked his friend.
James regarded Christie, and then Teri. “I don’t think it would hurt. What about you?”
“I don’t need help,” Bobby said, “but if Teri wants to volunteer I won’t stop her.”
Teri and Christie exchanged an eye-rolling glance.
All of them were on the floor when the doorbell chimed yet again.
“That’ll be Beth Morehouse,” Teri said.
“Oh, were you expecting her?” Christie asked. “Why’s she here?”
“Delivering a puppy,” she said on her way to the door.
“Teri, don’t tell me you and Bobby are getting a puppy!” Christie called after her.
“No,” James answered on her behalf. “We are.”
“James!” Christie yelped. “Isn’t this something you should’ve discussed with me first?”
“Well…”
Before he could respond, Teri walked into the living room, followed by her guest. Beth held a basket—with a small black puppy staring out. The little creature wore a pink bow that contrasted with its glossy fur.
“Oh, she’s adorable.”
“Yes, and she’s all yours,” James told her. “Merry Christmas, darling.”
“Merry Christmas,” Christie said, her voice choked.
“Why are you crying?” James asked, drawing his wife into his arms.
“I…I always wanted a…dog.”
“I know.”
Christie