Coming Home for Christmas by Fern Michaels Page B

suit.
    It was bitter cold, and the tears escaping her eyes were freezing on her eyelashes. She barely noticed as she trudged along. She had to walk along the roadside because of the piled-up snow. Her sneakers were cold and wet. She’d never been more miserable in her entire life.
    When she reached her neighborhood, Alice climbed over the banks of piled-up snow onto the shoveled sidewalk. How pretty it all looked, with the snow on the evergreens and the colored lights on the houses and in the trees.
    Christmas in Apple Valley.
    Soon the church choir would be out caroling. She and Ben always went caroling since they belonged to the choir. She’d had to give it up when the boys came along. She’d had to give up everything when the boys came along. Even Ben. She knew the thought was unfair. She’d known what it meant to marry a military man when she agreed to marry Ben. She had no one to blame for her circumstances except herself.
    Alice rounded the corner to her street and stopped short when she noticed the crowds of people at Albert Carpenter’s house. Then she smiled when she saw the front porch that was decorated to the nines. For sure the Apple Valley prize would go to this piece of property. How sad that Albert would never know how loved he was.
    It looked to Alice like everyone had brought something to add to the decorations someone had been kind enough to set up. The tree was magnificent, with its twinkling lights. The boys would love the reindeer and the sleigh packed with gaily colored packages. Small statues lined the steps. Santas, elves, ceramic Christmas trees. Gossamer angels trailing red ribbons dangled on wires from the beams on the porch.
    At first glance it all looked cluttered until you saw the homemade drawings, the cards tacked to the pillars that held up the porch. And then your second glance said it was the most beautiful sight in the world.
    Alice tried to swallow past the lump in her throat. She just knew she was the only person in town who had not left something on that wide, wonderful front porch. Well, she would have to remedy that as soon as she could. Not because Ben would never forgive her if she didn’t, but because she wanted to. No, that was wrong, she needed to do it.
    Alice wondered if there was anyone in the whole world who understood what she had been going through with the exception of Albert Carpenter. She’d poured out her heart to him so many times these past months. For his comfort she’d knocked herself out trying to take care of him—she cooked for him, cleaned his house, shopped for him, and did his laundry. Not that there weren’t others who would have helped, but she hadn’t asked. She’d wanted to do it because he was like a wise old grandfather, and he dearly loved Ben and Hank and a little girl named Mandy Leigh. No, she was not Supermom or super anything. She was just plain old Alice Avery Anders. Triple A Alice, as Ben called her from time to time.
    Alice moved on, and soon enough she was standing at her own front door. She turned the knob, but the door was locked from the inside. How stupid. She’d given Hank her keys. She rang the bell. The door opened. All she could do was stand there with tears in her eyes. Hank stretched out his arms, and she stepped into them. “Oh, Hank, I’m so . . .”
    â€œShhh. You don’t need to apologize for anything. I’m just so damn glad that you’re home. God, I can’t tell you how glad I am. Come in, come in, it’s freezing out there.”
    Alice stepped back and stared up at her brother-in-law. “I . . . need . . .”
    Hank placed his index finger against Alice’s lips. “No, you don’t need to do anything but love those kids of yours. They’re in the family room waiting for you.”
    Alice shrugged out of her jacket and ran to the family room. Like Hank, she vaulted over the gate and gathered up her twin boys, holding them close.