I pressed the cordless phone harder against my ear and paced the length of the living room. “What do you mean, you gave my Christmas tree to Jonathan?”
“It’s like I said. Jonathan picked up your tree just like he does every year,” Jack Murdock said.
“But you put my ... my name on it and marked it for delivery to my new address.”
“I put ‘Turner’ on it. When Jonathan pulled into the lot, I assumed he was here for your tree. He didn’t tell me any differently.”
“Jonathan and I are divorced. I don’t live with him anymore.”
“I didn’t know that, ma’am.”
“But my new address?”
“I thought you moved, you and your husband.”
“Great. Just great.”
“Sorry for the screw-up, Mrs. Turner.”
“Can you bring me another tree? I don’t care what kind it is. As long as it has branches, I’ll be happy.”
“I got no more.”
“What do you mean you got no more?" Tomorrow I'd cringe at the poor grammar. At the moment, I couldn't care less. "You always have trees left over.”
“Not this year.”
I threw my free hand into the air. “It’s six o’clock on Christmas Eve. Where am I going to get a tree now? The stores are closed, and you’re the only tree lot in town.” I swallowed past the lump in my throat. The thought of Christmas without a tree brought tears to my eyes.
“’Tis the season for miracles.”
The miracle would be if Jack had delivered the tree to my new address as I asked him to.
“Are you sure you don’t have anything left? A two-foot tree? Pine boughs? Spruce needles?”
“Absolutely sure, Mrs. Turner.”
I was about to thank him, then wondered why I should. “Merry Christmas.”
This year marked my first Christmas for new beginnings. Everything needed to be perfect. I slumped onto the sofa and fought the depression that threatened to overtake me by admiring the garland, candles and poinsettias decorating the window frames and window sills.
After a moment, not even that lifted my spirits. I stared at the packages of light blue balls, the rolls of silver ribbon, the boxes of clear miniature lights and the festively wrapped presents sitting on the floor and sighed.
Katie and Benjamin bounded down the stairs.
“When’s the tree getting here?” Katie asked.
“It’s not.” I explained what happened.
“Does that mean we’re not having a Christmas tree this year?” Benjamin asked, disappointment clearly evident in his voice.
It looked that way, but I couldn’t tell him that. “We’ll have a tree, don’t you worry.” There must be a tree in my backyard that would serve the purpose.
“Can’t you call Dad and tell him Jack gave him our tree by mistake?” Katie asked.
“I don’t want to do that.”
“Why not?”
Good question. It shouldn’t concern me that my ex-husband and his pregnant mistress might be without a tree nor should it intimidate me that Jonathan might get mad when I ask him to return our tree. It certainly seemed a better plan than chopping one down from our back yard.
“You’re right. Why shouldn’t I call?” I picked up the phone, punched in his home number and waited through twelve rings. “There’s no answer." I peered at my children. From the looks on their faces, they expected me to give up. I wasn't about to do that. "I’ll try the station.” I hit one on speed dial. The receptionist picked up on the third ring. “Linda, it’s Susan. Is Jonathan handy?”
“He’s not in his office, Mrs. Turner, but he’s around here somewhere. Do you want me to look for him?”
“No, that’s all right. Ask him to call me when you see him, please?”
“Sure.”
I disconnected the call and again looked into the expectant faces of my children. “I’ll try his cell.” I hit ten on speed dial and listened to his voice mail. “Jonathan, it’s Susan. It seems old Jack gave you my Christmas tree by mistake. Call me when you get this message.” I felt better already.
An hour later, someone stepped onto the front veranda. I ran to the door and swung it open to Alex holding an eight-foot pine. I knew exactly what happened. “Benjamin called you.” He had to stop doing that.
“Uh-huh.” He grinned. “He told me how sad you were and ... well, I couldn’t have that. I know you wanted some space, but....”
"But you thought because it's Christmas Eve and knowing my love for the season I might be in a celebrative mood. You got that right." I leapt into his arms. "God, how I missed you." I smothered him with kisses. Moments later when we broke apart, I looked at the tree and said, “I’m sorry Benjamin put you to all this trouble, but I expect Jonathan will be here any time with our tree.”
He beckoned me closer with a crook of his finger. When only three inches separated us, he whispered, “This is your tree.”
“My tree? I don’t understand. Jonathan has my tree.”
He raised his eyebrows and grinned. “Not anymore.”
“Not anymore?” Then it hit me. “Oh my God, what did you do?”
“I liberated it from the back of his truck at the police station.”
“You didn’t.” Oh good Lord.
“I did.”
“That’s theft. Someone might have seen you.” Didn’t he know how much satisfaction Jonathan would get arresting him?
“I was careful. Now, where do you want this baby?”
Two hours later, with Benjamin and Katie upstairs asleep, Alex and I cuddled together on the sofa and admired our handiwork.
“The tree is beautiful,” I said.
“It is.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, but I’m sure Jonathan would have gotten around to returning it if he checked his messages.”
“Maybe.” I snuggled closer to him. “I’m sorry I reacted the way I did when you told me about your identity. It was childish of me.”
He squeezed my shoulder. “And I’m sorry I didn’t trust you enough to tell you the truth. If I had been upfront with you from the beginning.... ”
“It’s behind us now. I’m so happy it is.”
“Me, too.”
The moment was perfect and my life, almost perfect. It bothered me I didn’t have the opportunity to tell Irwin what I learned about his identity. I wondered about my mother. She seemed to have disappeared, too. Maybe she only appeared when Irwin threatened us.
“I wonder where Irwin ... Rocco disappeared to,” I said. Alex didn’t answer. I knew what was bothering him. “You still don’t believe Irwin is Rocco, do you?”
“Not totally.”
“It makes sense, I think. He never hurt you when you came to visit, but he hurt Jonathan. Maybe on some level he sensed you were his brother.”
“That’s not a convincing argument. Your ex-husband tends to bring out the worst in people.”
“Okay, I’ll give you that. What about me? He never hurt me.”
“That’s because you have a good heart. Any ghost would love you.”
I grinned. “This is Rocco’s home. Doesn’t it seem plausible that he would come back to where he lived?”
“I suppose so.”
“I went to the library this week and read some books on the paranormal.”
“I can’t wait to hear this.”
He got a poke in the ribs for that remark. “Did you know spirits hang around on the earthly plane because they didn’t turn toward the light when it was time for them to make their transition?”
“Why wouldn’t they?”
“According to the psychics, there’re different reasons. Unfinished business. Death taking them by surprise. That would certainly be the case with your brother.”
“True.”
A car door slammed in front of the house.
“
That must be Jonathan,” I said.
Alex got up to look out the window. He was at the door at the same time the doorbell rang.
Quickly, I rehearsed an explanation, walked into the foyer and came face to face with my estranged sister.