Page 45 of Postmarked December

“What’s the view like?” Marion asked.

“Snowcapped mountains as far as I can see, and at the bottom is a lake. The edges are frozen, and they sparkle when the sun peeks through the clouds.”

“Definitely worth staying put. And staying in will give you lots of reading time. Did you bring some of the books we bought?”

“I did. And there’s bubble bath.” She went back inside and closed the door behind her, going to the fire and standing in front of the popping flames with a shiver.

“How is the cabin?”

“It’s gorgeous. It was decorated for Christmas and stocked with food. I’ve got chocolate, hot cocoa, and champagne. There were even fires going when I got here.” The oven had preheated, so she left the fire and slid the pizza in.

“Wow.”

“It’ll be nice to have a couple days to myself. In Greenville, Nick and I spent a lot of time together, but here, I can relax.”

“Has Nick called?”

She chewed her lip. “Not yet. But I texted him again, so now the ball is really in his court.”

“I’m sure he will eventually. Guys often operate on a different schedule than we do.” She giggled down the line, but Heather still wondered about Nick’s silence. “Well, enjoy the time alone. Call me when you get bored.”

“I will.”

She hung up the phone and decided that right now was as good a time as any to break into the champagne. She pulled a flute from the cabinet. Then she took the bottle from the fridge, untwisted the metal tab on the wire cage that protected the cork, covered it with a towel, and popped it open. It fizzed as she poured it into the glass. With a wedge of the cork back into the bottle and a refold of the towel, she cleaned up.

Now, back to those chocolates…

As Heather sat at the rustic family-sized table in the kitchen, with a view of the mountains out back, she considered how Toby’s family had gathered there in generations past. She nibbled her pizza, imagining every seat full, arms passing large bowls of mashed potatoes and platters of turkey while Christmas music played low on the radio like it was at that moment.

Who had decorated for her and transformed this cabin into the gorgeous retreat she was enjoying now? And was someone in a white SUV delivering all this to her? She tried to place which one of Toby’s friends would have taken on this massive endeavor. While there were people who would do things for him, running all these notes around and preparing a cabin wasn’t an easy ask. And like she’d told her mom, she didn’t know anyone with a white SUV. Maybe after Christmas, they’d reveal themselves and the mystery would be solved. Then she could invite them to use the cabin as a thank-you. If she couldn’t fill it with family, she could fill it with friends.

Over the last year, she hadn’t even considered what she’d do with this place. Even visiting hadn’t crossed her mind. She’d been paralyzed by her grief and so worried by reporters that she hadn’t given her sanity much attention. Before that, she’d been consumed with Toby’s health, brushing up on her degree, and getting a job—to appease Toby, really; not for herself.

All the while, this gem had been waiting for her.

Even though they’d renovated, it didn’t have Toby’s touch. Had he been given enough time to get in there, he’d have hung his prized guitars down the wall next to the view in the living room or framed sheet music to put in the hallway upstairs. But he’d left her to take care of those things.

In the quiet of late afternoon, it seemed to call out to her to fill it with a family—the one thing she couldn’t do. What would the patter of tiny feet sound like against these floors? What would the Christmas tree look like surrounded by sleepy-eyed children in pajamas, still recovering from all the wonderful holiday events downtown, all clamoring to see which presents were theirs?

Only then, through the pain that rose, causing a thickness in her chest, did she realize that Toby’s “Christmas With You” was playing on the radio. She closed her eyes and focused on the lyrics:

If I could ever make that call

If the world allowed me to break the wall

I’d run to you, rush to you

If I could do it at all

And tell you that I’d spend

Christmas with you…

While she’d always known the lyrics had been about a woman that a man loved from afar and could never have, today, they felt like a direct message straight to her from heaven. As the rest of the song played, tears streamed from her eyes.

Oh, Toby, why have you done all this?

While she could guess that it was his way of planning one last Christmas, her question was more about how much it made her miss him. She was still straddling her old life with Toby and her new one without him, wondering if she’d ever break free from the chasm.