A Christmas to Remember by Jenny Hale

wondered what part of North Carolina they were from. Had Adam grown up there? He must have worked to lessen his southern drawl over the years. At least if she had to spend time with a family that wasn’t her own, they were people to whom she could most likely relate.
    The back door of the camper opened and two more people got out: a woman—his sister? Then, a man. Carrie felt her heart speed up as she heard the clank of the camper doors shutting through the window. The group started walking toward the house. Olivia ran to open it, David following behind her.
    “Grandma Joyce!” Olivia called out, swinging the front door wide open and trying to step onto the snowy front steps with her princess heels.
    “I’ll come to you, Olivia,” the woman said with a grin that lit up her entire face. She darted around the two men as they made their way to the door. As the woman got closer, Carrie noticed that her eyes were the same blue as Adam’s. “You’re gonna slip if you come out here. I’m coming.” Carrie definitely recognized her accent. It sent a soothing feeling through her. There was something unique about the accents in the southern states; each one of them had their own slight differences. It was the way she said the word “I” and the drawl in the name “Olivia” that had given her away. It was the same drawl she’d heard when her mother had read her books at night all snuggled up in bed. Her “I” sounded just like her dad’s had when he told her stories.
    David—the ever protective and focused twin brother—reached out for Olivia’s hand, helping awkwardly to get her off the snow and back into the house. “Come back in,” he said, his face full of concern. His seriousness and the way he looked out for his sister was so sweet. Carrie worried that he wouldn’t have the influences in his life that he needed to retain his natural inclination to be helpful and attentive. “Hi, Grandpa Bruce!” he said, waving from the open door.
    “Hey there, squirt!” the man said as he reached the front steps. The older man grabbed the railing and worked his way up. Bruce smiled like Adam too, but there was something wise about his smile that was different than his son’s. Adam’s was more affectionate, whereas this man’s smile showed years of understanding, as if everything he’d done in life were showing through his eyes. She could tell that he was an intelligent man, but he didn’t seem overly stuffy or standoffish in any way. Carrie was glad for that. Adam wasn’t snobbish, despite his money, but his confidence had made her wonder about the people who had raised him, and she had worried that she couldn’t measure up to a family like the one she’d conjured in her head. She was glad that her worry was in vain.
    “Hello,” Grandma Joyce said when her gaze fell upon Carrie. She held out her hand in greeting, a big smile spread across her face. She had hardly a wrinkle. Just by looking at her, Carrie could tell so much about her character: the warmth in her eyes, her caring expression, her gentle but firm grip on Carrie’s hand. Any worry that she still had about Adam’s family melted away with that one introduction. “I hope Adam told you we were coming. I’m Adam’s mother Joyce, and this is his father Bruce.”
    “Yes. He did tell me. It’s nice to meet you,” Carrie said, trying to look as professional as possible in her sock feet and jeans, though they didn’t seem like the type of people to mind.
    The other two people came up the steps. The woman was considerably thin, even through her big coat, her long fingers peeking out from the sleeves. Her wedding ring looked gigantic on her skinny fingers, hanging loosely, the diamond sliding to the side. She had sandy brown hair—long and thin just like she was, and a soft but serious expression. When her eyes met Carrie’s, the corners of her mouth went up only slightly to acknowledge their meeting, but that was all. The woman was clearly