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Trading Christmas - Debbie Macomber [111]

By Root 1037 0
morning needing gift wrap. Then, once he’s got all his presents wrapped, he walks into my kitchen—” her face crinkled in a wide grin “—and he sticks all those presents in my refrigerator.” She smiled at the memory. “For his brother, he bought two canned hams and three gallons of ice cream. For me it was cat food and a couple of rib roasts.”

Breakfast was a bustling affair, with Joe’s younger brother, his wife and their children gathered around the table. Joe sat next to Cait and held her hand while his mother offered the blessing. Although she wasn’t home with her own family, Cait felt she had a good deal for which to be thankful.

Conversation was pleasant and relaxed, but foremost on the children’s minds was opening the gifts. The table was cleared and plates and bowls arranged inside the dishwasher in record time.

Cait sat beside Joe, holding a cup of coffee, as the oldest grandchild handed out the presents. While Christmas music played softly in the background, the children tore into their packages. The youngest, a two-year-old girl, was more interested in the box than in the gift itself.

When Joe came to the square package Cait had given him, he shook it enthusiastically.

“Be careful, it might break,” she warned, knowing there was no chance of that happening.

Carefully he removed the bows, then unwrapped his gift. Cait watched expectantly as he lifted the book from the layers of bright paper. “A book on baseball?”

Cait nodded, smiling. “As I recall, you used to collect base ball cards.”

“I ended up trading away my two favorites.”

“I’m sure it was for a very good reason.”

“Of course.”

Their eyes held until it became apparent that everyone in the room was watching them. Cait glanced self-consciously away.

Joe cleared his throat. “This is a great gift, Cait. Thank you very much.”

“You’re welcome very much.”

He leaned over and kissed her as if it was the most natural thing in the world. It felt right, their kiss. If anything, Cait was sorry to stop at one.

“Surely you have something for Cait,” Virginia Rockwell prompted her son.

“You bet I do.”

“He’s probably keeping it in the refrigerator,” Cait suggested, to the delight of Joe’s family.

“Oh, ye of little faith,” he said, removing a box from his shirt pocket.

“I recognize that paper,” Sally, Joe’s sister-in-law, murmured to Cait. “It’s from Stanley’s.”

Cait’s eyes widened at the name of an expensive local jewelry store. “Joe?”

“Go ahead and open it,” he urged.

Cait did, hands fumbling in her eagerness. She slipped off the ribbon and peeled away the gold textured wrap to reveal a white jeweler’s box. It contained a second box, a small black velvet one, which she opened very slowly. She gasped at the lovely cameo brooch inside.

“Oh, Joe,” she whispered. It was a lovely piece carved in onyx and overlaid with ivory. She’d longed for a cameo, a really nice one, for years and wondered how Joe could possibly have known.

“You gonna kiss Uncle Joe?” his nephew, Charlie, asked, “’cause if you are, I’m not looking.”

“Of course she’s going to kiss me,” Joe answered for her. “Only she can do it later when there aren’t so many curious people around.” He glanced swiftly at his mother. “Just the way Mom used to thank Dad for her Christmas gift. Isn’t that right, Mom?”

“I’m sure Cait…will,” Virginia answered, clearly flustered. She patted her hand against the side of her head as though she feared the pins had fallen from her hair, her eyes downcast.

Cait didn’t blame the older woman for being embarrassed, but one look at the cameo and she was willing to forgive Joe anything.

The day flew past. After the gifts were opened—with everyone exclaiming in surprised delight over the gifts Joe had bought, with Cait’s help—the family gathered around the piano. Mrs. Rockwell played as they sang a variety of Christmas carols, their voices loud and cheerful. Joe’s father had died several years earlier, but he was mentioned often throughout the day, with affection and love. Cait hadn’t known him well, but the family obviously felt Andrew Rockwell’s presence far more than

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